Chapter VII.
In the treacherous waters of the English Channel the brilliant young Foreign Secretary supported Madge Capperton with one arm, while with the other he swam strongly towards the only floating object in view.
As they drew near he perceived that it was a large ship's ventilator. It was sinking fast, and from its mouth protruded the heads of two men engaged in a life-and-death struggle. They were Capperton and Blütherski.
With a cry of encouragement Carmichael redoubled his efforts.
Chapter VIII.
A ship's lifeboat, propelled by strong and willing arms, travelled swiftly across the sea. Presently a shout went up from the man in the bow. Four figures were seen struggling frantically in the water, and the rowers bent themselves with renewed energy to their oars.
Chapter IX.
On board the liner which had been responsible both for the collision and the rescue, Raymond Blütherski, sinister figure, was seen to leave his cabin and disappear down the corridor. An instant later Carmichael and Capperton entered stealthily. With quick cat-like movements the detective pushed open the doer and tip-toed into the cabin.
Carmichael waited outside in an attitude of intense watchfulness. As a steward passed down the corridor he assumed a careless expression and lit a cigarette with nonchalant elaboration.
Directly the steward had gone the watcher resumed his vigil, every nerve on the alert.
Chapter X.
Inside the cabin the detective hurriedly opened drawers, turned over bed-clothes, tapped partitions and felt in boots. Then with an expression of disappointment he turned to the door.
Chapter XI.
In the corridor the two men stood face to face.
"Have you found them?" asked Carmichael hoarsely.
"No. They have sunk in the sea!" replied the other.
Chapter XII.
Across the smooth waters of the English Channel a motor-boat moved swiftly. In the bows the Foreign Secretary and the detective gazed earnestly forward.
Presently the latter clutched Carmichael's arm with an oath. Another boat had come into view, and they perceived that a diver in full costume was climbing into it.
The motor-boat came to a stop alongside the other. It could be seen that the diver held in his hand a ball of paper.
Chapter XIII.
The diver's headpiece was being unscrewed. On either side of him stood Capperton and Carmichael, each with a loaded revolver.
At length the cumbrous helmet was lifted off and the face of the diver was revealed.
It was Madge!
Chapter XIV.
The motor-boat drew up beside the quay and the Foreign Secretary stepped out with the detective and his daughter. All were plainly in a joyous mood, and they smiled happily at each other.
So gratified were they at their success that they quite failed to observe three men, who crept up stealthily behind them and thrust pads soaked in chloroform over their mouths.
In a few seconds the struggles of the victims ceased, and their inert bodies were roughly thrust into a waiting motor.
From the driver's seat Blütherski smiled sardonically.
Chapter XV.
Madge Capperton lay in a cellar of Blütherski's house, tightly bound and gagged. But her indomitable spirit was not yet cowed.
Using the edge of a rough stone as a saw she was laboriously severing the cord which tied her wrists. At length her persistence was rewarded and the frayed ends of the rope fell apart.
In fifteen seconds she stood up free.
Chapter XVI.
In another cellar, similarly shackled, the resolute detective was exerting all his mighty strength to burst his bonds.
With a superhuman effort he broke the cord which held his arms, and in fifteen seconds he also was free.
Chapter XVII.
In a small room in the same house the detective's daughter methodically pressed her hand against picture after picture hung on the walls. Her face was grimly determined.
At last she was successful. A large section of the wall slid back, revealing a dark opening.
After a few seconds' natural hesitation the brave girl stepped through the aperture.
Chapter XVIII.
Raymond Blütherski lay asleep. On his dressing-table rested the fatal ball of paper.
Suddenly a portion of the wall moved back and Madge Capperton appeared in the opening. As noiselessly as possible she crept forward and snatched up the despatches. In a few seconds she would be safe!
At that instant Blütherski awoke, leapt out of his bed and grasped her roughly by the arm. But he had reckoned without Capperton.
The commanding figure of the detective appeared in the room. He levelled a large revolver at Blütherski, and the latter threw up his hands with a cry of baffled hate.
Chapter XIX.
In a moonlit garden Clement Carmichael was waiting impatiently. Presently Madge came to him with a radiant face and placed the lost des-patches in his hands. His reputation was saved!
Seizing the girl in his arms he pressed his lips to hers in a long passionate kiss.
The End.
(For a sensitive Scot.)
Our connection's o'er,
Henceforth I don't know thee
Any more.
On thy pastry dote;
'Tisn't that it slid not
Down my throat;
Fell a trifle fiat—
If I've got the hump it's
Not from that.
Tried to wink at me,
Or let fall a stray tress
In my tea;
Tenpence in the till
For a snack that cost thee
Almost nil...
Just a scŏne alone,
Which the lass who served me
Called a scōne.
IN A GOOD CAUSE.
In connection with his chief Cartoon of this week, Mr. Punch begs to invite his readers to help the kind people of Holland on whom the care of so many Belgian refugees has fallen. Contributions will be gladly received by the International Women's Relief Committee (Miss Chrystal Macmillan, Treasurer), 7, Adam Street, Adelphi, W.C.
